


Kairos

by Luorescence



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Refusal Ending, Science Fiction, Synthesis Ending, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-07 11:09:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luorescence/pseuds/Luorescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Synthesis was their solution, the Ascension to their final evolution stage, leading to an era of eternal peace. It was order and stability, an everlasting present which would eventually lead to civilization to rot on its own roots. That's why sapients chose to send one of their best back in time, where it all began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss Future goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there,
> 
> I just beat Mass Effect, I mean the whole trilogy, in almost a single shot, playing almost non-stop. And, throughout my game, as I followed Shepard's adventures, I grew more and more interested to see what I could do with this rich universe we were gifted with. Finally, it was the endings, which made me determined to write. The question here isn't about if I like them or not, but that these endings are really interesting, and open to many interpretations. So, why do I ramble about that and what's the link with my fic? I'll come to it just after that.
> 
> I often have a goal when writing; I want to experience new things as much as possible. At first, I wanted to write a SI, because I totally loved the idea of someone being thrown in the Mass Effect universe, interacting with the different characters, discovering the fascinating technology as well as the aliens' culture. The problem resided in the fact I couldn't see a viable reason to send someone of our world to this universe. Moreover how to explain said person was a biotic (and I was adamant about the fact I wanted my OC to be a biotic). This reason the reason why I scratched to idea rapidly and searched for another solution. It came to me when I was watching all endings. The future: if the refusal is chosen, the epilogue still show a future cycle, where the Reapers have been dealt with, meaning that civilization could have found a way to time-travel, as there isn't any Reapers left to stop their evolution.
> 
> The protagonist, Aeon, comes from such a period, where peace had been achieved by the Synthesis. But he have to travel back to Shepard's timeline. Seeing there's very long period of time between cycles, my first wish to make a character totally discover Mass Effect universe is nearly intact: the technology can't the same. Moreover, he doesn't come from our world so, there's nothing he know about the details of the adventure (well, except what was told by Liara in her time capsules and all but well…it's less detailed than playing the games). I think it could give a new perspective of the whole thing.
> 
> And there's the fact Aeon isn't from a specie featured in the games, which would result in some very interesting things as the story will go. The ruach are my creation and I hope you'll like it. I will explain the details regarding the specie when needed, as well as some things exclusive of ruach's cycle. If you have any questions or remarks, don't hesitate to make them (review ou pm, I don't care), I take any feedbacks about what I'm doing right, or wrong. Moreover when this is the first fic I made for this fandom.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for this long preamble. 
> 
> Many thanks to Fjeril without who, there would be many more mistakes. Don't hesitate to point them out to me: English isn't the first language for neither of us. I'm still learning so if there's weird syntax or things like that, I'll be pleased to receive some advices/corrections.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

**Prologue**  
 **Kiss Future goodbye**

* * *

  " _The cycle will end. Synthesis is the final evolution of life, but we need each other to make it happen._ "  
— the Catalyst

* * *

Far above his head, the whirlpools of reds, grey and oranges were leaving clouds of little dots, shining like billions of stars. It reminded Aeon of Kardia's sky, a never ending fire who would turn beautiful shades of grayish blue at night. Here and there, he could spot some imperfections. The movements weren't as fluid as they should have been: some frames were lagging, creating a weird pattern in the whole paint. In fact, the rendering was far from it. It should have been like there was a shower of shooting stars up there. It actually seemed like a chaotic war of luminous dots. Still, he warmly smiled, glad. The intention counted; the result was only secondary. He also knew the Citadel's engineers had given their best for this peculiar day. He would not insult their gift by being displeased. Moreover, considering that most of them were aliens, and must not have had put a feet on Kardia, it was astonishing. Not an exact replica of his homeworld's sky, magnificent nonetheless.

And it achieved to stir a nostalgic smile from him. It had been a very long time since he last visited Kardia. Around two centuries, he thought. Not that he regretted living on the Citadel, working adamantly for the future of the galaxy. Like the Ascender before him. His stare shifted to rest on the memorial in front of him. There was a podium, its surface covered with anti-grav plates, which made the flowers float around. It also maintained in the air, at the eye of the petals tornado, the most beautiful piece of art he had ever seen.

It was, without a doubt, the most known ruach in the galaxy, maybe the most popular person period. His eyes, a vivid amber circled by a violet ring, were looked up to the sky, filled with an overwhelming determination. Obviously, they were exempt of the faint green lines running the fibers of every species' irises, a mark of the perpetual peace they had finally achieved because of him. It gave him a sort of distinctive trait, which never ceased to fascinate it: when Aeon was born, everyone had already Ascended. Hopefully, he would be able to witness it in live soon.

He put the thought away, looking at the long feathery hair, pushed back by the body's diving movement. The one which lead to the Ascension. The sculpture was almost a perfect rendition of it. The black point however, was the statue's facial expression: pure bliss. Aeon doubted someone jumping to his death could make that sort of face. Even if he had willfully chose it, to save the Galaxy and trace a path to the future. Moreover, it didn't sat well with what he knew of the Ascender. Nor with how the events had really happened. Not that he could blame it on the sculptor, the poor guy hadn't be there and, didn't shared a link with any of the witnesses.

"Adjutant R'Kylthe. You came to pay your respects to the Ascender before departing?" The touch to his mind was kind. He greeted the Elder with the ritual salute. His aura's deep blue shade tasted like the softness of whipped cream, radiating with the older ruach's usual quietness. Said person was watching him carefully, a gentle smile on his face. "Your discourse earlier was rather enthralling, Adjutant. You seemed to have gained people's heart. In these dark times, they needed it."

"I was just being sincere, Elder Lowe. I am honored and eager to have lead the Portal project. Making it succeed is a responsibility I have to take. And it's a pleasure to do so."

He had taken a military posture, hands behind his straightened back, head held high giving him a regal aura, eyes shining with fierce pride. The Elder smiled with delight, a soft laugh escaping from his lips. It was although soon replaced by a vague worry with a rubber gum-like taste.

"Aren't you nervous?" Rhetorical question: Aeon wasn't hiding his emotions. Anybody could have sense them, if standing near him. For a person as perceptive as the Eos F'Lowe, it must have been like he was some kind of blazing nervousness reactor about to explode. "You don't have to be ashamed of your feelings, Adjutant. If they were to do what you are about to, I can't imagine how someone could not," the Elder glanced at the statue when pursuing. "I was also there when the Ascender… When Aither took his decision. I can tell you he wasn't less nervous than you."

Aeon massaged the nape of his neck, where his navi resided, lightly uneasy. He already knew. Lowe had been one of the Ascender's companions. Thus, even for an Elder, the leader of the Framran clan was very old, maybe the oldest of their whole specie. He still had some quirks from before the Ascension. Like putting into words what didn't need to be, since the feelings and thoughts were already there, shared by the two of them. For that reason, he didn't answered, waiting for the other ruach to finish, which he eventually did, after a pensive silence.

"Be assured that you will never be forgotten. You have accomplished a lot, opened new paths for our future, gave us hope. What will happen next does not matter, you already are a hero to our specie."

Aeon saw him glance at the Ascender's statue. He didn't need to hear to words that weren't spoken, the link everyone made between both of them, the Ascender and himself. The fact that destiny couldn't seem to be able to leave them alone. He chuckled lightly at the similitude of their situations.

"I will not fail, Elder." F'Lowe's relief made him smile, although its metallic taste wasn't enjoyable at all.

"Then, I won't waste more of your time, Adjutant. I'm very sure you have other matters to take care of before departing. If you will excuse me."

As the oldest departed, with thoughts of encouragement directed at him, the characteristic beep of incoming message resonated in his mind. Meanwhile the flashy half-transparent red icon featuring a white exclamation point appeared in the upper-left corner of his vision. His eyes pointed in this direction and he blinked. In reaction, a sentence popped up in the middle of his visual layout, erasing itself when he finished reading. No surprise in the fact it was Lys. And he was waiting for him. Time to go.

* * *

As always, circulating in the Ring was a complicated matter: it involved many detours, hidden shortcuts and weird-located teleport platforms, to avoid as much as possible the never-ending crowded principal avenues. Today was even worse than usual. The fact that a lot of persons, from everywhere in the galaxy, came for the Ascension's six-hundredth anniversary, promising a whole week of festivities did not help in any ways. He already had to do a speech earlier about it, taking the opportunity make the one about his mission too. Which was the other reason the crowd seemed far larger than the few last centuries.

Fortunately, the Ascender's statue was situated not far from the entrance of the Tower and it didn't take him too much time to go there. A map of the building popped, indicating where Lys was waiting for him. He deactivated the GPS, not wanting to have his vision troubled by the arrow who would guide him to his destination. Moreover, he didn't need it: the room was situated in the military section, totally forbidden to civilians. In fact, it was his office, where they would have all the privacy they needed.

When he entered a few minutes later, Lys had his back pressed against the wall, where billions of datapads were suspended, providing many notes, schemas and graphics. He was standing with his air of nonchalance, arms crossed against his torso, eyes closed, his head gently lolling to the rhythm of the music he must have been listening to. Certainly some of his beloved classical ruach songs, played with material instruments, whereas virtual ones had since long replaced the former.

"Lys," he greeted him, taking his lover's hands in his, to kiss his smooth orange-toned skin. Had he been taller, he would directly had kissed his lips however, standing on the tip of his toes wasn't an agreeable experiment. Nor it was elegant. Thus, he didn't do it.

"Neah," the other answered, his voice as soft as always. As always when pronounced, his birth name had his childhood favorite sweet's flavor. The brand had gone bankrupt, and the production stopped long ago, but the memory was intact, as real as in the past. The fact it was Lys who told it added a blissful extra to it, like natural almond powder on kil-flavored cream. "So, you'll finally do it." Lys had always be blunt. Today was no exception. It pleased Aeon, to see some things would never change: in this most peculiar day, it acted like a reassuring anchor to the world.

"Yeah," he scratched the skin around his navi. "Hard to realize, right? It's been what…"

The count was fairly precise. Exactly two-hundred-and-ten years. The longest had part not been the conception and realization, far from it. It has been to rally the Congregation to ideas, his subversive project. And that was just the first, essential step he had had to take. There was a simple reason: if he hadn't been able convince the Congregation, his fellow ruach, of his project's goodness' sake, there was no way he could have gained the Council support. Without the Council's financial and material support, nothing would have been possible. Gaining their thrust had been long and fastidious, even when he was gifted with famous genitors and had, at multiple occasions, proven his worth as well as his reliability. But well, seeing the his project's cost, he could only understand their first reluctance and skepticism.

"…tadel to Neah, do you copy?" Sweet invaded briefly his mouth, snapping him back to reality. His lover was laughing, clearly making fun of him spacing out, again.

"Two whole centuries." he finished, as if there hadn't been an interruption.

"Congratulations."

Their eyes met, and they stared at each other as if they were the two sides of a mirror. There was nothing to be said, nothing which could translate their feelings into the correct words. There wasn't any need for that either, not when the thoughts seemed to engulf them, like they were part-physical, weighing on their body. Aeon closed his eyes, letting his head rest on the other's torso, listening to the steady pulsing of his heart. A pungent sorrow nearly radiated from his companion's body. After all, they were aware they wouldn't see each other for a long time. And that was an understatement. Both of them knew that.

Lys reached for his hand, lacing their fingers. He put his other arm around his waist, embracing him tightly. Their markings vibrated as they were forming a link between them. Far more profound than the empathic web tying everyone. Intimate. One sacred bond formed when ruach mated. They were a great mess of emotions they couldn't clearly define. Nor they could really tell who they belonged to. At this moment, the two of them formed a unique being, exposing every part of themselves. They shared memories of treasured moments —soothing a little the lingering affliction of their future separation— as well as the excitation to see the followings event, melted with a profound despair. In fact there were a lot of feelings, positive and negative, with four dominating the rest: hope, resignation, determination and longing. Reassurance also, to the fact they were having similar sentiments.

When they parted, moments later, a paradoxical sense of emptiness and plenitude because of their fusion, Aeon was aware of their respective markings, still twinkling. They smiled fondly at each other when their hands separated, revealing the Seed which had formed in them. Its texture was smooth, the transparent shell covered with slim line of a faint electronic green. It contained a light, whose colors frequently shifted.

"As long as I will be able to do so, I will wait for you. Then, if I don't see you come back, I'll undergo the Metensomatosis," Lys said as he put the precious Seed in one of the pocket of his pants. It was clear, for both of them what Lys would do. Ruach's millennium lifespan was an eternity compared to most species. They weren't little aspirants anymore but, they still had a life lying ahead of them. Both. However, they wouldn't be able to pursue it at each others' side. For the greater good's sake, which was waiting for him, as the taller ruach reminded him. "Everyone is waiting for us. We should go."

If they didn't knew about what was coming, they would have never thought about making a Seed, Aeon thought as he took his helmet on his desk. They walked out of the office, to the restricted area, in the central part of the floor. The soldiers saluted them as they went through the corridors, a smile on their faces but, they didn't mask the pity they felt for him, nor their recognition not to be him and their thankfulness for what they already considered a sacrifice.

Eventually, the large doors came into view, leading into a long corridor, full with holo-screens, each of them having a person sated in front of it. There was nobody who didn't stand up to salute him when they passed, making the adjutant feel like he was slowly walking to his death. Or, to be more specific, like he was already dead, in a coffin, which were taken to a parade before being put into the grave.

Flashes of memories not his own came to him: the Ascender's march to his destiny, his unwavering resolve at this time, similar to his. He was envious though, because at the time, nobody could have sensed his edginess. When Lys put a hand on his shoulder, in a gesture of support, he was grateful. They crossed one of the bridges, buzzing with hushed activity to enter the main area.

The place was circular, bathed in the light provided by the screen running on its walls. There was no cellar, just an opening so high that seeing where it lead to, was impossible. From there, only a flashing blue radiance could be seen. Pillars covered the structure's upper-part, extending till the superior floor much higher.

And here they were, standing on the central platform, waiting for them. The ten of them, his squadron, his men; the ones he couldn't have done anything without. Including Lys and him, on the twelve, they were only four ruach. The rest were all aliens who had agreed to take a part in the project. Each of them leading one part of the project, each of them one of the best in their domain. And he was on the top, coordinating the whole. They were the heart of the SRD, the project's essence and, he loved each of them.

As they arrived, Vasilias took a step forward. Aeon knew it was him, the Council had chosen to inherit his adjutant duty after his departure. The wisest choice for a leader. Sometimes a little too reckless but, he was still fairly young. Time would arrange that. "Aeon, Eros," he nodded politely at both of them, his relaxed posture hiding his boiling eagerness. "All systems are running smoothly. Calculations and simulations have been done, calibrations have been remade as well. It's a hundred percent success rate." he added, mostly to reassure himself.

"I know," Aeon answered back."I was there. I even did them myself, remember?"

His tone was sharper than he intended, but everyone knew the thoughts under the words. They laughed. His fierce pride at what they had accomplished there. The Portal was the hope of the galaxy, as the Crucible had been a few centuries ago. And like his genitor before him, he had to make sure this hope wouldn't be replaced by despair.

"The Overseer is up there," Vasilias said matter-of-factly.

He walked to the platform which would take him to the upper level, turned to face his men. They were forming a line in front of him, waiting for his last words. He was proud. Of him. Of all of them. Of what he had achieved. The idea of accomplishing something of that value sufficed to make his heart pounding. They all shared that sensation, as well as the bitter, raw precognition of what lied away of them. The quasi-certitude he would never see his beloved SRD again, as well as theirs, resonating in his mind. Truth to be told, he feared he would little by little, forget each of their faces, the supportive and compassionate look in their eyes.

"Everyone," he took the time to watch each of them, imprinting their picture in his mind as well as in his navi. Just in case he wouldn't be able to remember at all. He took a deep breath. And finally spoke. "It's been two damned centuries we are working on this Portal. Two long centuries. I remember the beginnings, when most of you weren't there… weren't even born. Before you, there have been others. They quitted. They died. But I remember each of them. Each name. Each face. Because it's thanks to them we could finally achieved the completion of the Portal. They traced the path we have walked until now. And you," He stopped, gulping laboriously the ball which had formed in his throat, making his voice crackle. "And… It's thanks to you, every one of you, we will be able to engage ourselves further on this path, towards a brighter future. What the Ascender did, together we also did it. Because you were there," he was felt embarrassed, but incredibly gleeful when his men warmed feelings engulfed it. "From here, please take care of everything for me. And take care of yourselves too. When I come back, I don't want to hear some of you died before due time. I'll miss you all."

He finally added softly, even if he knew he didn't have to. They could already sense it, as well as he could felt and taste them. Salty as the tears menacing to drop if he were to stay any longer. He took a deep breath, forcing a smile on his face. He didn't have to appear so beat up, he could see it was affecting the team's spirit. He wasn't going to die anyway soon.

"Thanks for all."

A silent collective "thank you too" exploded with the force of fireworks in his mind. As if they shared the same body, everyone did the ritual salute in a perfect synchronicity, putting their right fist on their heart. The gesture felt much more symbolic. He stood in this position as the elevator took him to the tower's summit.

"I am the Overseer."

The voice greeting him when he arrived on the platform were the same as always, a multitude expressing itself, tainted with a computer-like tone. He gasped. He was the first to witness the Overseer's physical form. He didn't know what to expect. In fact, almost anything but that. But, there he was, waiting for him, an electronic green ghastly humanoid. His features were rough still, he would he recognized it anytime. It was like an outline of the Ascender, standing in front of him, watching him with patience.

"Aeon R'Kylph."

"We know who you are," he gesture him to follow him, then stopped at the beginning of the ramp going to the tower's center.

This area being strictly forbidden to anyone, it was the first time he was there. The first sapient being, excluding the Overseer guiding the Council and by extension, the whole galaxy. It was more than an honor to stand there. He gazed with curiosity at his surroundings. There was no roof, the atmosphere and gravity maintained by the Overseer. He could see just above him, the Citadel's opened arms. In the middle stood the Crucible, producing an incredible amount of pure eezo. The beam was directed at the end of ramp, where the Portal stood, its large silver rings in endless rotations, concentrating the energy in its womb.

"We believe the Crucible's energy will not be enough to port you to your destination."

"How so?" Aeon frowned. "Even you testified everything was perfect, Overseer. I don't understand."

"Everything is perfect in your construction, the Portal. The problem lies in the Crucible device. The amount of energy required is beyond imagination. It can produce it but… the power will likely cause its destruction before you reach your destination and you will be lost," sensing his growing desperation and agitation as the ruach heard the words, the Overseer hushed him with a single gesture. "Do not worry though, we found the solution."

He felt him arrive because of his voice, like a choral lead by a distinctly masculine voice. Deep and vibrant. Strong also. As every Guardian, his proportions were gigantic, his body made with plates of a magnificent deep blue. Aeon frowned. This Guardian was very different from the ones he had seen before, so very familiar. His fists were clenched as he looked up. The Guardian's body was humanoid, could even have passed for a ruach's one. His hands cupped around the Crucible. Aeon couldn't see past his torso, but he knew there were legs there. He gulped, as the memory flashed before his eyes. The Ascender's horror when he had seen it. So profound, so flagrant he was the main factor in his choice. The Ascender didn't want them to end up like that, nor he wanted to kill this Guardian. He couldn't have. Not with the empathy he had been gifted with.

"I am Flux, and we are to guide you, synthanic one," his glittering blue eyes were fixed on him, filled with an expression he had problems to comprehend: something like a… curious condescension?

"I'm honored Guardian Flux, to receive your help," although he was feeling more than uneasy, he forced himself to incline his head with respect, chastising silently himself. "Overseer, how should I process?"

"You will jump into the stream, from the ramp. We will ensure the Crucible will last long enough for you to reach your destination. The process will be painful however, your armor and biotic capacities will protect you when hitting the arrival point. You will survive. But, be warned, as the Crucible will be eventually destroyed and the Portal closed. You will not be able to return before long."

"That's something I prepared myself for, Overseer."

"Which is why I chose you. This future rests in your hands. It is your decision what to do with it. And for that, you have to step in the stream first."

Aeon closed his eyes. He took long inspiration, to calm himself, trying to ease his heart's fast beat. He put his right hand on his torso, in a silent salute to the world he was about to quit.  _His_  world. The moments felt like an eternity as he was paying his farewells, as well as assembling his courage to take the leap. All his doubts, his fears and worries, he tried to push aside, calling out to the excitation and eagerness to be able to take part in this experience, reaching out to his will to make his world's future brilliant.

"The operation is ready to go now. We are waiting for you. I have a message from your companions: 'Good luck'."

That was short but warming. The ruach put a hand to this cheek. He hadn't noticed the tears. He let them drop, reaching instead at the nape of his neck, as if it would stop the flow. Then, he put his helmet, and checked that all was good. "Good Luck". When he took his first step, his dearly beloved men's voices echoed in him. Their encouragements were like the wind on a ship's sails, porting him through the ramp to the Portal, to a place he had always dreamt about. Where all had began.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously there isn't any prior knowledge to have about the ruach to read and understand. However, for the curious ones whom might want to know more about them, I've chosen to explain a few things. I'll do that for each chapter. And don't hesitate to ask questions, or tell me what you think. I don't bite~
> 
> First, some politics. The ruach are divided in multiple clans. Each clan is lead by its oldest ruach, called an Elder. The Congregation is an assembly gathering two represents by clan: the clan Elder, and another one who is chosen by the clan with a vote. The Congregation takes decisions concerning the whole specie whereas clans dictate life in a more day-to-day approach.
> 
> There's two way to determine one's clan. The first one is to look into a ruach eyes. They all have central heterochromia (meaning their irises have two colors): the central ring's color indicate their clan. For example: Framran's amber. The second (mostly for the aliens, because obviously, I don't think aliens care to know about what color represents what clan) is the name. It's the particle followed by an apostrophe just before their surnames. Like Eos F'Low: F' referees to his clan, Framran. Which is why Aeon just call him Elder Low: as I already said earlier, there's only one Elder per clan and most ruach know every clans and Elders (just like we know who's the president). So the F' is superfluous.
> 
> Speaking of names, you must have noticed that Vasilias doesn't call Lys, Lys but Eros. It's because ruach have two names. A birth name, which they keep secret, only to use it with their dearest ones. And a clan name used by everyone else. Aeon is his clan name, and Neah his birth name.
> 
> And, there's a last thing to clarify, I think. About the military and what that's mean to be an Adjutant. The ruach army depends solely on the Congregation, and each clan contribute to it. It's divided in multiple divisions, each of them having a different purpose. In fact, this isn't a conventional army, since no-combat divisions (like the SRD) are exempted from armed-combat training. But, everyone have to take a biotic and close combat trainings. All of them are professionals. Each division's Adjutant is chosen by the Congregation and this is a great honor to be one, since it's kind of the equivalent to a fleet admiral status.
> 
> Bearing that in mind, why did was it the Council who chose Aeon's successor? Simply because the SRD isn't a ruach-only. Although the main staff is composed by ruach (since they came up with the Portal Project), there are many aliens. Moreover its work is supervised by the Council. That's why the Council chose the successor, not the Congregation. By the way, SRD stands for Scientific Research Division.
> 
> And I think that will be all for now. There's much more things I would like to explain but I don't want to drown you with too many details. Which I just did, sort of. I know I already said that but any questions/remarks/suggestions are welcomed: I want to know what I do right or wrong.
> 
> See you next time!


	2. Hello to the past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aeon finally took the leap, traveling to the past. Then hell began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of a way for Aeon not to alter events and, I don't really think it would be interesting to see a replaying of the game either. So, I won't keep the same dialogs as canon for the most part. And there will be things which will change or be added.

 

**Chapter 1  
Hello to the past**

* * *

" _Adjutant, h_ _ow do you think it will be? The past I mean._ "  
" _Messy. There was a lot of wars you know. Between synthetics and organics. Also awful. Remember, the Shepard was killed by the Reapers._ "  
— Vasilias F'Line and Aeon R'Kylthe

* * *

Aeon tasted the blast of eezo forming dark matter, far too much salty because of its astronomical quantity. He felt the power surge in him, enveloping him, compressing him; an incredible pressure on his body as well as in his body. It was like he was being torn apart, from everywhere; like his entrails had decided to strangle him. Blinded by the surge of light, he tightly shut his eyes. He also wanted to put his hands on his ears to ease the uproar however, he couldn't move at all. He felt so sick, he was even asking himself if he wouldn't throw up, to end up strangling himself to death with his vomit. Such a wonderful way to die.

He tried to catch his breath. Without success. His lungs really ached. Again, he felt like he was dying. Which could not be happening: every calculation, every test and simulation had been running again and again thoroughly, with an everlasting patience and meticulous, even obsessive, attention. It had taken none less than two centuries to reach this point. He  _knew_  there wasn't a single error in the Portal. The Overseer wouldn't have allowed that. Himself wouldn't have allowed that.

Then, he didn't know when, nor how long but his brain totally shut down. There was nothing but pain. A mass of shriveling flesh, boiling from an everlasting agony. It let out piercing cries for Death to come, only to receive more and more suffering. It burnt. It peed as the burning hot flames licked him. It also spewed in its container when shocks were too violent. It struggled to get out, trying to escape the insufferable pain, but it was there, at such an intensity that, it couldn't even localize it. It was just so unbearable.

At a point, something in it stirred up, resonating with it. The voice of legions hushing it to silence, with a soothing touch which actually ached. Because it didn't comprehend anything beyond pain. It screamed with terror when sensing something hemming it. It was pushed it through layouts of shifting agony. It took time to realize it was guided to spaces always a little less hurting. That the voice of legions embracing itself was shielding it. A long silence followed, like it was floating in a vacuum and, eventually, it felt asleep.

* * *

Whatever Aeon hit, he hit it very hard. His body shook, each nerve screaming in a hot spicy white agony, jolting him awake. Since he didn't felt any movement, any force toying with him, he knew that wherever he was, he had finally arrived. The fact that the Overseer had mentioned his biotics protecting him when landing added to his certitude: he definitely wasn't imagining the mass effect field surrounding him. It must have been a reflex for survival. Because he was sure that, if it weren't for this and his armor, he would now be a delicate puree of limbs and fluids. He winced. It really hurt like hell.

Positive point: breathing was possible now. And the atmosphere fairly respirable. Not that he would be alive to make the remark otherwise. Taking a long and deep inspiration, he couldn't help but feeling incredibly relieved. At least, he wasn't killed. And that alone was a wonderful thing. With chance, his navi was still operational, and he would be able to have a precise estimation of the damages his body had taken. The screen flickered as few times, before vanishing. So much for the navi; not that he worried too much about that. The device would only be useless the time his nano-machines would take to repair it, depending on what datas had been damaged or lost.

So, it was the time to assess the outcome of his  _little_  trip through space and time. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking a few times. The Citadel's five petal-like arms at his vision's periphery, reaching into this deep space he could contemplate from here. Once again, he was at the tower's summit. However, far above him, the familiar rings were not. Nor were the Crucible, and the Guardian called Flux. Good omen. It meant he wasn't in his original timeline. He just had to hope he had actually come exactly  _when_  he wanted to. If he had made a miscalculation, he were so screwed. Shocking lightly his head, he pushed the thought away.

_Because the Portal was nothing but perfect._

"You are badly damaged." He was standing a few step from him. A translucent blue forming a humanoid, whose blurry features reminded Aeon of the Overseer. Even his voice was similar, although this one's was more human. Just a child's voice, superposed to a men and a women's ones. No robotic tone.

"I know," he answered back. It wasn't like he couldn't feel every fiber in his body, screaming with pain. "Who are you?"

"I am the Catalyst," the humanoid said, watching him with emotionless eyes.

No surprise there. Seeing his similitude with the Overseer, as well as their location, that was evident. As if he were still a child listening to the Stargazer's stories, Aeon felt a surge of excitation and gleeful curiosity pulse through his veins, his pain forgotten. The Overseer was a synthanic; the Catalyst —if the records were true— a genuine kind of evolved AI. It was his first time coming in contact with one. Back home, they weren't exactly what they used to be described as, before the Ascension.

He remembered the tales of the Ascension. The long story of the fathers he never had; he had been told a fair amount of times about them: Aither F'Kylphe, whose sacrifice had permitted to achieve the peace he had always known. The Ascender of Synthesis. His mate, Elder Nephos Locke whom had bore the Seed. His Seed. Without them, the galaxy wouldn't be at peace, nor he would be alive. He had seen it too: flashings memories and ethereal sensations belonging to them. Even now, he felt in him, the link between the three of them: their awe in front of the old being. The one which had the Ascender chose between three paths. In his mind, the picture came to his eyes, the legend running into the stream, without fear nor doubts.

There was also the legacy of the long-dead asari Liara T'Soni. The precious biography of Shepard, as well as her recount of the Reaper war. They had recovered by a total and fortunate hazard, in one of the numerous Kardia's proto-species' ruins. Nephos R'Locke had been the best synesthete in his time. He had spotted the terminal as soon as he had entered the ruin it was in, the largest one in the whole planet. Not that it was surprising: after all, Elders were clans' oldest ruach, the most powerful ones. They couldn't be less when leading their clan.

He could feel his genitor's glee when finding the antiquity was still in a perfect condition, putting the ruach on the tracks to deal with the Repears. Dr. T'Soni hadn't given  _the_  solution. She had given three possibilities (letting the cycle ending with the Repears' victory wasn't one). It was thanks to her he was there. And evidently, it was mostly thanks to The Shepard she could have provided the intel. At the price of their species' end.

"You are organic as well as synthetic. We have never encountered your specie before."

The Cataslyst's voice broke the silence, snapped Aeon back to reality. He could clearly sense the acid, but somehow soft, citron taste of curiosity, coming from the other being. He should have been able to perceive much more. However, the link tying all synthanics wasn't here. Not in this time. It felt weird. Being able to perceive anybody's unconcealed sensations was as natural as breathing. He sensed it in his throat, a ball forming here, suffocating him. Maybe it was because it was an antique AI, or was it really like that before the Ascension?

"Neither did I encountered yours. What are you?" Being obligated tovoice his words  _aloud_ felt wrong. He ignored a need to massage his throat, uncomfortable to do so under the Catalyst insistent gaze. Of course Aeon couldn't tell the other what he was, where he came from and least, that Reapers were no longer a threat in his timeline. Speaking of it, he really hoped he was when he had intended to be.

"I am the Catalyst. When the time comes, I am be the one who will bring order to chaos." There was nothing to be said to that, so Aeon just nodded, fearing in the same time, that the Catalyst would ask delicate questions. "We are curious about the mean you have used to arrive here."

Like the one subjacent to his affirmation. Truth to be told, if Aeon knew well he would arrive here, he hadn't thought the Catalyst would manifest himself in front of him. Not to have taken this possibility in consideration was a ridiculous error from him. He would have to be extremely careful from now, to avoid rousing even more suspicion than now. He finally opted to answer with a fake interrogation. "Where am I?"

"The Citadel."

"How can I get out of this place?"

The words were spoken with haste, as soon as he had received an answer. He needed to get away from here as soon as possible. Prolonging a discussion with the AI would be problematic for him in the long run, he  _knew_ it. The lemony taste of curiosity grew stronger, as the intensity of the eyes staring at him. Aeon was actually glad the Catalyst was not able to perceive the agitated worry he felt. An emotion anybody standing near him could have read, back home.

"Stand up. I will open a path for you."

Aeon took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, letting his biotics flare. There was no way he could stand and walk without them. He didn't knew how much time he would be able to maintain them but hopefully, enough to find some place to rest. Anywhere. Beside him, the Catalyst waited patiently until he was on his feet, bracing for the painful moments about to happen. He followed the AI to the same platform he had taken to go to the tower's summit.

"As you have captured our attention, we will watch you from now."

* * *

"First, a quarian badly wounded a few days ago. Then, this. What sort of times do we live in?" The doctor was murmuring, mostly to herself as she helped Aeon sit on a bed. Did all humans like to talk to themselves? "What if I hadn't found you in the alley? Who knows what would have happened?" Again, she was really speaking to him so, he didn't made any comments.

The ruach was very grateful to the human female: he had ended up in a small street, taking a pause because as strong as his biotics were, it couldn't support him forever. His navi was still kind of down but, at least, its translator functioned; reinforced by his natural empathic synesthesia, he shouldn't have any problems to communicate. Still, he wished this cycle's sapients were capable to speak directly to his mind, as synthanics and the Catalyst did. Anyway, he could understand the alien's speech and that was all that counted for now. Without the doctor passing by, he would still be there, without any clues about what to do, nor where to go. That was a beginning.

When she told him to strip out of his armor, he nodded, doing as ordered, though not without grimacing from the pain. Meanwhile, he did his best not to stare at her, which was extremely difficult. After all, this female was the first living human he had met. Straight red hair and a round face very similar to ruach's. However the mono-colored teal green eyes were definitely un-ruach-like. As well as her funny curved chest, far from the ruach's chest' flatness, designing her as a female, if his notes were good. He was tempted to ask her about human genders ni general but refrained, doubtful it was very polite. Nor wise, seeing she considered him as a fellow human.

While the doctor helped him to finally removed the last part of his armor, he couldn't help but sigh. The poor thing had been badly damaged: some parts were melded, others totally torn up or burnt. It was nothing more than some junk right now, which was a good thing: he didn't want to keep with him, things which could give away his origins.

"You have been very lucky," the woman said as she was passing a curious orange device surrounding her hand, around him. There was many informations showing on it, although he didn't knew their signification. Yet. "Your armor sustained most of the damages from the explosion. You have many contusions and your right flank suffered from a second degree burn but, seeing what happened to your armor… You're a very lucky young man," she added. "It's nothing medi-gel can't take care of."

He mentally chuckled at the "young man" denomination. The female didn't knew how much she was mistaken. He wasn't old for a ruach; still, with his six-hundred year-old, he was far from young and certainly much older than any human. Not that he was one to begin with. It was a relief to be able to pass for one though. It meant that as long as nobody took a closer look to his cells and DNA, the secret of his origins should be safe. He would also have to be extremely careful of not to be seen naked: if he could easily explain his markings, he wasn't so sure about his crotch.

She took a tube of the medi-gel product, put a fair quantity of it in her hand, then applied it on his skin. Aeon looked at the process with curiosity. The gel was cold but it was refreshing, soothing his burning pain. He felt it stuck itself on him, hardening like a shell. "When it falls, if it doesn't look well don't hesitate to apply some more," she patted him gently on the head, then looked at his wrists, her aura tasting like lemon. "I see that you have no omni-tool."

"Lost it during the explosion." He hadn't any clue to what an omni-tool was —but seeing her reaction, he would have to obtain one— so he was going with that. "As well as my other belongings," he added after a little silence, to prevent any questions about possessions he didn't have. He hadn't taken anything with him, except for his navi but well… It wasn't like he could unplug it from its port. Like hell he would if he could do it anyway.

"So you said your biotics helped you walking away from the explosion site." She gestured his headjack, on the nape of his neck. "May I ask what kind of implant you use? No wait, you are still fairly young, something around 25, I guess? So, a L3 for sure. That's pretty impressive."

He nodded. Human needed implants to use biotics? That was new. He remembered studying their use of it, but wasn't aware about that. So, they weren't natural biotics. That was a shame. Anyway, he registered the information for future use. He would go with that for a cover. 25 years old male human biotic with a L3 implant. Whatever that meant. Truth to be told, making himself a background story hadn't been in his preparations for the mission: with the relatively lesser knowledge of this timeline, except great events, he hadn't felt like being able to build a strong and believable cover.

"What's your name?"

"Aeon Kylthe. And thank you." He chose to drop his clan's mark: in the Archives, he had never seen a human with that sort of surnames, and with his coppery red curly hair, he obviously couldn't pass for an asari. Moreover, it wasn't like his clan had any significance for anyone but him. Not in this timeline anyway. "And you?"

"Chloe Michel, humble doctor in this little clinic. Don't thank me, I'm merely doing my job" She walked away, putting the now empty tubes in a bean. "Just stay here. You said you lost your belongings so I'm gonna see if I can find you some clothes. You can't walk around just in your underwear," she said, departing to another room.

His gaze lingered around. It was pretty spacious for a little place, separated into two areas by a large low wall. They had entered through the door, on the other zone, where there were a console and some benches, certainly for the patients to wait for their turn. Himself was in the other part. Beds, separated by thick partition walls, had been aligned against the wall, which superior part was nothing less than a picture window. From here, he could view the pink leaves of a giant tree, as well as flying cars passing nearby. He smiled with glee: so that was the transport method! Flying cars! That was awesome! Those had been unused since a very long time. He thought he was still a little child around his twentieth last time. Teleport platforms had replaced them since.

"I know this look. You're new here, right?" Dr. Michel chuckled. He hadn't heard her coming back. She handed him a simple grey shirt, with black pants and white socks.

"Pretty much," he answered. She couldn't know how much she was right, and in the same time, totally wrong. "I'm really excited to be able to witness this Citadel with my own eyes. I've been waiting for it for centuries."

"That's a strong word but, I know what you mean. I also was like that the first time. In fact, it's the same for many newcomers. Even if newcomers finding themselves caught in an explosion, is not." she added with humor. "Well, at least you're mostly fine. Your armor and biotics really did an admirable job." Her eyes rested briefly on the protection's remains. "It's not much and it's a little big for you but, it's always better than your current outfit," she said eyeing him when he had changed into his new clothes. "You'll need some new shoes too," she concluded, departing once again.

A beep resonated while the entrance door opened. The visitors didn't looked like patients: none of them seemed to have any wounds and they looked pretty healthy. Heavily armed too, Aeon noticed as they made their way into the place. Pretty hostile if the gun which was soon pressed on his temple was any indication. Someone violently took him by the collar. He shuddered, disgusted at the physical contact but succeeded in keeping his biotics and reflexes in check. If it using them could be avoided, he would like to do so. Moreover, the enemy underestimating him could only be good, if things were to go bad.

"Where's the doctor?!" Black eyes filled with aggressiveness met him. The grip went firmer. "If you wanna live, you better answer. Now!"

He didn't had to do it: Dr. Michel were returning, screaming his name with worry. When she saw the scene, the words died on her lips, and the boots she was carrying fell on the ground. The man —women didn't had hairy face— turned his attention to the woman. He smiled as he let him go, pushing him out of his way.

"Well, better be straight. I hope for your safety you didn't spoke." His gaze shifted briefly to Aeon. "To anyone."

"Wait! He's just a patient! I never told anything! I didn't speak!"

"Smart move Doc. Be as smart as that if Garrus comes sticking his mandibles where he shouldn't."

Utterly annoying. That human clearly needed to be taught some manners. His eyes hastily scanned the room. There were ten of them, flanking them. He was certain he was the only biotic here. He could take most of them without too much problems. Still, he wasn't so sure about doing this and ensuring Dr. Michel's safety in the same time. He was in her debt, he wouldn't let be injured because of a stupid reckless move.

Then, because he was facing the entrance, he saw them before the others. The sliding door opening to let a crouched alien in. He caught Aeon's look, made a weird gesture to him with one of his three-fingered hands, his mandibles slightly moving. Was that one, the Garrus they were speaking about? Was he the alien… the turian he thought he was? Primarch Garrus Vakarian, companion of the Shepard, leader of the Resistance, died a hero at the Last Battle.

On his tail were three individuals, what he supposed to be two male humans and one female, armored and armed. The black-eyed man turned to them, surprised but already grasping the doctor, his gun on her temple and an arm around her neck. One of his companion did the same to him. Tried, to be more precise. There was a gunfire as Aeon grabbed his attacker's wrist, effortlessly lifting his body with biotics. He slammed him into one of his buddies, staggering the two of them, as silver energy hit them. Bullets finished them.

Bending down, the ruach eyes searched for the Dr. Michel, whose menacer had already went down. She was on her knee, hands protecting her head as the room was bathed in a mess of firing sounds. The combatants had all taken cover, seemingly forgetful of their presences. He went at her side, ready to protect her if needed.

Then, he turned his concentration back to the battlefield. Three more men were down, body filled with bullets. An another was slammed into a wall, dead on the spot. It left a sole human. Had he been wiser, would he have surrendered. However, his aura was still tainted with determination. He stood up. His gun turned to Dr. Michel and him. Stupid human. The bullet bounced against a protective barrier, totally harmless. Brainless dead human.

Aeon helped the clinician to rise on her feet. She still seemed a little shocked but, from what he could see, didn't happen to sustain any injuries. That was a relief. Himself was very fine, saved from his aching body, which were displeased with the efforts furnished. Usually, he wouldn't have any problems. Well, usually, he didn't travelled back in time.

"Are you okay?" Dark eyes filled with gentle concern met his. Their owner was tall and brawny, black hair perfectly brushed back. His biotics were making Aeon's senses prickle. By pure automatism, the ruach slightly scratched his neck, as it would stop the sensation. The human was strong, no doubt there.

"No harm done," he answered back with a bright smile. "I'm not fragile enough to be brought down by that," he added with a vague gesture. The two he had slammed hadn't been able to defend against his biotics. Unworthy small fries. It would have been shameful to him, if the guys had actually been able to injure him. "Anyway, thanks for the help. You are?"

"Alliance Navy, Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko." He turned to show him the armored woman, her black hair in a bun. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams."

She spared him a glance, before turning her attention back to the third man. Their names made the ruach's heart beat faster with anticipation. He refrained from smiling like an idiot, as glee filled him. His Portal was indeed perfect. Perfect place, perfect timeline. Fortuna had been clement to him and he would have to thank it back, as soon as possible.

The last man was standing in front of the scaly grey turian alien, scolding him for his recklessness. He was a redhead, with thick short hair brushing the top of his large brow. Like any non-ruach, his eyes were mono-colored, but of the vividest green he had ever seen. He couldn't tell if he was attractive for humans, however Aeon could definitely sense the charisma oozing from him, fascinating and magnificent, tasting like ruach ale, strong with a sweet alcohol flavor. There was marked leader all over him, hero even. This was the person he respected the most in the whole universe, even more than the Ascender.

"And, this is Commander Shepard," Lieutenant Alenko finally said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's just one thing I would like to explain. It's about Aeon saying "He would also have to be extremely careful of not to be seen naked: if he could easily explain his markings, he wasn't so sure about his crotch", and his curiosity about human genders. It's because ruach are a genderless specie. All of them have androgynous face and are flat-chested, and have no external reproductive organs. So yeah, it would be quite a problem if someone see Aeon naked.
> 
> See you next time!


	3. Remember the present

**Chapter 2  
Remember the present**

* * *

" _Tell me another story about the Shepard._ "  
— Aeon R'Kylthe

* * *

"I feel bad for dragging you in all that, Aeon." Dr. Michel sighed. "You've already been caught in an explosion and now, this. Sorry. As a doctor, I should have protected you, not the other way."

She shouldn't be, the ruach thought as he put his new boots, wondering why the nano didn't took his feet form, to fit perfectly around them. He called himself an imbecile. Neither shoes nor clothes in this cycle must have been made with nano-machines. That was a real shame: nano avoided a lot of inconveniences, like the relative largeness of what he was wearing. Not that he should complain; in his situation, that was more than good. She really shouldn't be sorry for what had happened. Saving her life was normal, as she was weaker than him. Moreover when it was thanks to her he had met Shepard.

"Since I don't have any money, consider this as a payment Dr. Michel. A life for a life." He hoped that translated well. "Right?" he added awkwardly.

"Your life wasn't even in danger… Is there something I can do for you?"

Aeon could think of a fair amount of things but could definitely not ask about them. He doubted that explications about human gender differences, turian anatomy, weaponry mechanism, non-nano clothes' textiles or even, omni-tool functions were wise questions. He just shook his head instead. "You already helped me a lot, and even let me sleep here for a few hours. I can't ask for more."

"I see. I will let you go. Don't forget to apply medi-gel on your burns when yours fall. Good luck for the rest Aeon, and sorry again. Please don't hesitate to visit, or send a message. And try not to get caught in an explosion or gunfires again."

"I won't forget. Thank you for all Dr. Michel."

He departed on these words. When the door sled behind him, he felt the urge to go back to the clinic as a dreadful headache took him. So damn noisy. Weren't all these aliens aware of the insufferable hubbub their auras made? They formed swirling tornados of dissonant emotions, forming a kind of greater chaos pleased to torment him. So many tastes invaded his palate he felt like being about to throw up. Maybe that could purge the awful flavor before it killed it. He instantly regretted his own timeline. If everyone's surface emotions were opened to each others, at least, the result was harmonious. As synthanics, everybody was synced to other sapients: all tastes had the same intensity, like a carefully ordered piece. On another hand, _this_ was just… horrible. An all-out war of auras playing at the-one-which-could-hurl-better-than-the-others. How the hell could he survive this?

"For someone leaving a clinic, you don't look good." The tone was funny, but Aeon couldn't really decipher why he found it rather funny. He was trying to force the oh-so tasty emotional nuisances, which weren't his, go away. It was a little too hard for him, to even try to analyze further the delightful circumvolutions of humans' speech. Even if he recognized this voice at being the Shepard's one.

"First time here. Brain don't really appreciate…" his sentence ended with a gesture to the crowd circling them.

"Oh. I see. Well, let's go to somewhere calmer. I wanted to speak with you."

"Lead the way."

Aeon centered all his attention to the red strap on Shepard armor: from his right hand to his right shoulder. Placated on a white band. Flashy enough to be able to track as the human legend were guiding him who knew where. It felt like an eternity of crossing through incessant traffic. He honestly couldn't decide if there seemed to be more people than what he was used to, or not. But regardless of the answer, he felt like it. Control of one's aura was a basic knowledge. Something learnt during one's educational course. These ones sure, weren't synthanics and thus, didn't care about someone perceiving their aura. He felt for every sensible sentient beings. Maybe that was the reason why synthetics had found understanding organics impossible at first? Because he couldn't even begin to imagine why they —as a whole— seemed like unleashed animals, emotionally speaking. And they didn't even knew it.

"You really seem like you need some meds." Without him noticing, the Shepard had put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm okay." He abruptly stepped back from the physical contact. "Well, not so much. I just need a little time…" to adjust. Tune the whole inconvenience down. He wished his navi was totally active; it would have help him to make said arrangements much more faster and much less painful. His gaze fell on the hero-to-be, waiting for a comment. It didn't came. Instead, the human turned on his heels, gesturing him to their environment.

"That should do the trick."

It wasn't really a room in fact, mostly an isolated area, delimited by high piles of gray and black crates. There was nothing on the ground, except white boxes here and there, which furnished them a whole set of chairs to choose if they wanted to sit. A storage area maybe? There was also nobody except them. That explained the cool, soothing tasteless flavor he could savor on his tongue. Definitely an unused storage area.

"Alenko told me your name was Aeon Kylthe. I'm…"

"Commander Shepard. I know. He told me." He smiled. Like someone didn't knew who this human was. The thought was rather amusing, considering most of this timeline's population didn't knew yet. "You wished to speak with me?" He sat cross-legged.

"First of all, thank for your help earlier, it was welcomed." The Shepard stood his back against a container, looking straight at him with a strange expression. He would have could it a smile, if it wasn't so light. He wasn't so sure about it since he could have imagined it. "25 year-old biotic, you just arrived on the Citadel and were caught in an explosion in the wards. Dr. Michel found you in some alleyway near the site and brought you back at the clinic. That's why you were there when the thugs came. Also, you lost all your belongings during the explosion, right?" The ruach eyed the smirking redhead suspiciously. " Don't worry, I just spoke with Dr. Michel. I was curious about you. Biotics aren't that frequent. Silver biotics… I didn't even knew that existed."

Aeon kept himself from chuckling, rather happy that human didn't seem to be able to read auras. His markings and life points were silver. Obviously his biotics would share the same tone. What was so special about it? "Well, it's not like I chose it. Sometimes, these things happen," he answered, his voice filled with amusement. "But I suppose the…" he paused, reminding himself that calling his interlocutor the Shepard might sound _really_ weird. "You didn't just want to speak about silver biotics with me. Mind if I ask why you were curious?"

"From what I saw, you're a good biotic and know some close combat. Did you serve in the Alliance?"

"Never. My tutors were biotics too, they taught me what they knew and how to defend myself."

The Shepard's aura was blank of any taste, which could have inform Aeon of what he thought. He wasn't very sure about what his face was saying either: one of his brows was a little higher than the other, the eyes under slightly narrowed. Ruach didn't had brows, but life points. And ruach certainly didn't narrowed their eyes. That was weird. Was there a problem with his words? Well, that wasn't really a lie since biotic was a part of ruach education, reinforced by his military training, which had provided him whole courses in close combat. He just hoped that biotics outside the Alliance wasn't some oddity.

"That's surprising since most biotics enlist but I guess the Alliance isn't for everyone. Did your tutors teach you about shooting?"

"They taught me how to defend myself," he repeated accentuating the "defend". Why would that mean using a gun, or something like that? "It doesn't have to involve shooting someone." Not when shooting was for the military combat divisions. Scientists as him never found themselves at the front lines. It wasn't like they couldn't kill with their biotics either. The human wore the weird expression again, one-brow-high-one-eye-narrowed. He decided it was either surprise or disbelief. Maybe a point across the two.

"Biotics aren't almighty. Close combat is good when you can approach the enemy. What if your biotics, armor and shields are down and your enemy wield a gun. You can't go near him and that's a pretty boom for you, since you can't defend yourself nor approach him."

"I never had to face that situation." His biotics never had failed him before, nor had his armor. On the other hand, his dear armor was dead, and he never had been on the front-lines either. The Shepard had and would always be on the front for the rest of his life. "And as you so subtly imply it, I should probably learn that skill."

"It could save your life one day."

"True enough. This Citadel seems fairly dangerous if thugs run around, threatening medics." Criminality had never been a problem in his universe. It just didn't existed. The different anotopias **(1)** took care of that, and he couldn't think of somehow willing to put a feet in one of these lawless areas. "Speaking of which, did you find that quarian you were speaking about? Is she safe?"

"Why would you know that?" Finally, the human's aura was colored by lemony bits. Even if it was brief, Aeon smiled at that.

"They attacked Dr. Michel _and me_ because of that quarian. Why wouldn't I be curious?"

"She's safe."

There was a long silence then, where each just looked in the other's eyes. The ruach felt like his companion was waiting for him to speak about something precise. He hadn't any idea about what it was so he was uncomfortable, wishing for the Shepard to be plain blunt with him, instead of just staring. He scratched his neck with nervousness, mentally mocking himself: this was just a human, far much younger than him. He shouldn't react like that.

"You didn't answered me the first time. I'll ask again: why were you curious about me?"

"I still am. C'mon Aeon, don't tell me people are never curious about you? You have no brows, funny eyes and weird tattoos included big dots replacing your absent brows. Moreover you're a civilian biotic. Unusual enough to be intriguing, don't you think?"

Aeon frowned. Why would he need brows when he had life points? As if they were just simple "dots" as the human had put it. And, his eyes were not "funny"; merely regular bi-colored ruach eyes, which he liked very much. Much more than alien eyes, which in his mind seemed dull with their unique hue. Without mentioning the faint green lines of synthetic fibers missing. Lastly, they were not "weird tattoos" but his markings, which he also liked very much. In fact, because he was born this way, and would die this way, it was fortunate for him to like what the almighty Kosmos had gifted him with. Otherwise, he was screwed. It wasn't like he could tell the Shepard about all of this but, he couldn't help to feel just a little annoyed. Also, the smirk on the other's face wasn't a stranger to that.

"Are you trying not to answer my question, again?" He seemed to enjoy himself a little too much to Aeon's sake. "You're toying with me." His tone was void any emotion, a simple observation of the situation. He decided to try another approach. "Shepard, just tell me what you want. You're confusing me, why all these questions?" The Shepard might be more sensible to a more direct phrasing.

"I wanted to know about you, from yourself, before asking. Aeon, I want you on my ship."

"That seems more like a demand than a request to me, Shepard," he said sharply after a long moment of determining if the other was serious enough. He felt very honored and that spontaneous "proposition" rid him from having to find a way to stay at the legend's side but, there were some things bothering him. "You don't know me and I don't even know what you're going after, nor why you need my help. And, I'm a civilian. I don't think these are welcomed aboard military vessels."

"I want you for a mission as a Spectre, not as a soldier. Said mission, I can't inform you in details yet: let's just say it involves traveling a lot. You certainly are right on the fact that I don't know you. However I've known Garrus, Tali and Wrex for about the same time as I've known you. And they are civilians _as well as_ aliens. Like them, I also saw you in a real combat situation. You may not know how to shoot but it can be learnt. Your other skills would be honed. All the praising apart, you would be an idiot to refuse an opportunity like that. Must I remind you that you are homeless and without a sou."

"Your mission seems to include a lot of dangers. What let you think I would want to participate?"

The Shepard snickered, his mocking smirk on the lips. Aeon instantly regretted having spoken. "Please Aeon: being caught in an explosion and in a surprise attack in a few hours. Being still able to fight during the latter, after suffering injuries from the former. Wasn't that dangerous for a _civilian like you_?" He cross his arms over his chest with a more serious expression when pursuing. "I won't lie. This is a Spectre mission, indeed there'll be many dangers, life-threatening ones. Which is why I want to give you the choice."

There was no choice to be made. Aeon had a mission of his own, which mostly required him to stick as much as possible with this human he admired so much. He smiled. "You don't have to. My decision is already taken."

"Welcome aboard Aeon." The Shepard straightened, extending a hand in front of him. The ruach looked at it, uncertain of what to do since he didn't knew the gesture's meaning. And here it was again, this eyes' narrowing. Different this time, as there were no high brow involved, and the two eyes were wrinkled. That must have been common human knowledge he was lacking. "My hand don't bite you know." What? "You can shake it, or you don't do that where you come from."

So, that was the purpose: welcoming gesturing. Interesting. He did as told. "Sorry, I'm not used to it." He said awkwardly after the brief exchange, massaging his hand. The Shepard had shaken it hard. So much he was wondering if the other was just getting revenge for the delay. If not, he couldn't see why a welcoming gesture would cause pain. Humans were strange.

"I noticed." Seeing the tone, that was probably a revenge. Sneaky despicable one the Shepard was. So much for his childhood hero's mental image. That made him smile. The future past lying ahead would surely prove itself interesting.

"Glad to be on the team, whatever those life-threatening dangers might be."

* * *

_The sound seemed to resonate all around them. The slap was hard, painful, snapping him right back into reality. Nephos was standing in front of him, his hand still engulfed in his silver biotics. His hand went to his cheek, already swelling. He was trembling with an melting pot of despair, anger and worry, which had driven the blond one to hit him._

_"What the hell were you doing Aith'?" The tone was severe as his friend was staring at him, his life point creased. There was a silence before recognition ignited his eyes. His shoulders were grasped with force. "Aither F'Kylphe, don't tell me you thought that this_ thing _was Hieron." It was him, if not he wouldn't have been like that. "Oh no, no no no. Aith' don't you dare open your mouth now. Look at me. Right now." Nephos cupped his chin in a firm grip, forced him to look at him. "Reapers' mindless beast puppet. That is what husks are. This is stated in the Archives, this is what we've… what you saw since the beginning of this war. Everywhere. Husks. Living synthetic-melded-with-organic corpses. Corpses. Dead."_

_Aither opened his mouth to shout back that this one might be special. That this one was still Hieron, so it must have been special. They could just have captured it for further study, and might have been able to find a solution. A cure to the transformation. There was no way that their friend wasn't himself anymore, even if his body had another form. They should have given him a chance._

_"Aith' you fool. Hieron was dead the second that energy ball passed through him." Nephos made a gesture to englobe the six of them. "Everyone here knows it. And you. You_ know _it."_

_Aither's gaze lingered in the ground, where a grey cube reposed, its surface ran by blue and black wires. On a side, he could see a glowing cobalt orb, vestige of what the object had been before his friend had molded into this. The blond followed his eyes to the former husk, looked back at him, still fulminating._

_"So, you would rather die than be merciful and end this creature. This was_ not _Hieron. How many times must I tell you?"_

_"I know, I know. Just…" He sighted, disengaging himself from the other's grip. "Please, just let's go."_

Aeon finally detached his eyes from the image. The seat was hard, uncomfortable, and the auto pilot's high-pitched synthetic voice particularly annoying. His migraine had receded into a disgusted horror, thanks to the memory seeing the husks' had unclenched. The human had briefed him on his mission to the colony called Eden Prime, illustrating his words with photos.

It wasn't the first time he had seen husks. In fact, in his original timeline, there were plenty of them. Vaws they were called, short voluntary after-death workers. It was a contract voluntaries made: in exchange to some significant fiscal advantages, contractors accepted their body to be transformed into vaw before their death, to serve the community further as "free" workforce. Still, vaws weren't husks; the same way Reapers weren't Guardians. Vaws were useful to community whereas husks were just abominations.

_When he entered the place, the scent of death was all over it, assaulting their sense of smell. Eizus was in his chair-wheel, his long hair all over his shoulder. His eyes were as inexpressive as always, staring at something none of them could see. There wasn't any aura coming from him, no taste nor thoughts. Just a deep blankness, as if he was facing empty datapads._

_Aeon bit his lower lip. Their simulation had failed, provoking a warp in small lab. The blond-haired scientist was the one running the experience from the inside. The dark energy created had eaten instantly his barrier, twisting his members and blowing up his navi. The damaged body they had repaired. But there was nothing that could be done to restore his mind back. And now, Eizus was nothing more than a soulless living body._

_Next to him was standing his spouse, a humble teacher called Kalliaria J'Nagg. He was tall, his skin a beautiful cerulean and golden markings lacing around his neck as if it were a delicate necklace. His dark hair was attached into a neat long braid, decorated with feathers. He had one hand on his husband shoulder, the other gesturing them to come._

_"Adjutant R'Kylthe," He tilted his head as a salute. "I was waiting for you." His voice was a faint murmur. "I wanted to speak with you about the possibility I had evoked in my message." Aeon slowly nodded. He kept silent, unwilling to rush the other when it was evident that this whole thing was more than hard for him. "I have finally spoken with my husband's family. They agreed. The conditions: be able to see him one last time and pursue a ceremony to honor him, according to their species' traditions."_

_"I see. Please tell them that the SRD will furnish them transports from Bethian to the Citadel, as well as a residence for the stay here. All their needs will taken into charge. As well as the ceremony fees." Aeon wanted to reach for J'Nagg but his interlocutor wasn't his friend. Not even a mere relative. "Eizus will also receive the Mark of Bravery and a ruach funeral. He might not be a ruach, but he definitely was one of us. As his Adjutant, I will lead the ceremony in person," he concluded. There was nothing more he could do to try to soothe the other._

_"Thank you. It is more than I had hoped for." Aeon's heart clenched at the eezo-like taste of his desperation. It was even more painful because of the teacher's faint fake smile as he pursued. "I would have preferred his body returned to me, but it was his decision. He was believing in this whole thing. To be frank with you Adjutant, I think this is foolish. I do not know why the Congregation and the Council support you. I do not know how you convinced my husband. But, he was willing to give his life, as well as his death for you." The words were bitter, and the eyes staring his filled with melancholia. Eizus' species had a short lifespan and he had still years ahead of him. Aeon knew that his spouse were resenting him because his dream had stolen that time from the two of them. There was nothing he could do about that. "This is the sole reason I do not hate you or your research. If my husband want to serve it as a vaw, so be it. It is his wish, I will not compromise it."_

_Putting his fist on his heart, the scientist bowed low. He stayed in this position for a long time, as a answer to J'Nagg's silent demand. "I'm very honored. I know none of my words could appease your grief, nor you want me to but, I can promise you that his desires will be answered. His… Your sacrifices won't be in vain."_

_That was the only thing he could do for them._

"These things, creatures or whatever they are, shouldn't exist," he said to the Shepard. These mindless husks were a insult to the vaws. Eizus had be the first one to dedicate his death as well as his life to the Portal, but far from the sole one. These things which bore vaws' appearance were utterly disgusting, their existence an affront to all of them.

"Indeed," the human replied, his eyes on the multiple holo-screens opened around his right arm, engulfed in an orange light. "I'd hope we won't run into them again, but I know it's just the beginning." He made a gesture, and the displays vanished into the air. "Speaking of which, let's just concentrate with the important task right now. You." Aeon didn't respond to that, eyeing the Shepard with curiosity. "Let's resume. No armor. No omni-tool. No weapons." His expression was smug, as he added before the ruach could cut him. "Biotic doesn't count. So without any of them, it's like you're begging to be killed. Which will not happen on my watch. A gun, there's plenty on the Normandy. You'll use them until we found you an appropriate weapon. The armor and omni-tool, we're gonna get it now. I guess you don't need a new amp."

"Mine is very good, thanks."

"Yeah I figured. And seeing you in action, I'm definitely sure light armor's made for you. So it left one thing. What was your omni-tool's brand?"

He scratched his neck feeling awkward, his body stiff with embarrassment as he thought that he still didn't knew what an omni-tool was. "I don't know Shepard. Mine was a gift, I never really paid attention to that sort of thing." And here it was again, this expression he had decided to associate with disbelief, one-brow-high-one-eye-narrowed.

"You're kidding me? Your omni-tool is your life companion, how could you not pay some attention to its brand?" Because his life companion was his navi. Not some weird device. "Mine's a Savant. Expensive as hell but, very effective when speaking about its tech performances. Its processor is swift and precise, no lag and a very fluid interface. A bit lacking when it comes to synchronize to my armor for maximum efficiency, which causes some delay when applying medi-gel but I'm working on it."

"You sure seem to love your omni-tool. I find this quite fascinating."

"I have a very close relationship with my Savant, yes. We work very well together," the Shepard replied laughing. "So, for you, something equilibrated. Polaris would do the trick. At least the base line is balanced enough to let you figure if you need something more specialized in the future."

"I'm not sure I understand all."

The Shepard rolled his eyes. "Doesn't matter Aeon. I'm a very valuable man when omni-tool is concerned. Trust my words on that."

"You're a very valuable man, period." After all, he was his childhood's hero, the one who had traced the path to the Ascension. Not that he could tell him that: he hadn't even met Dr. T'Soni yet. But at least, there was something he could say. "You're the first human Spectre."

"Yeah, that also." Aeon didn't understood why the other laughed when replying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **(1)** Short for Anomitopia. In Aeon's OT, these are specific areas, mostly planets or space stations, where all criminals are sent. There are different anotopias, depending on your crime gravity but all have the same functioning. Once one is sent there, they are stripped from citizenship (regardless of their race), hence Aeon's "they don't exist". All escape tentative is punished by death. Any fugitive can be shot on sight. Except that, there's no laws and the inhabitants are left to themselves, to do what they want. Anybody willing to do so can request to enter an anotopia, and will be granted the authorization to do so. But they will also be stripped on their citizenship and unable to return.


	4. Tech terminology

  
**Chapter 3  
** **Tech terminology**   


* * *

" _Never forget that even heroes make very stupid mistakes_."  
— Garrus Vakarian

* * *

The box was simple in its design, Aeon found that very charming as he examined it throughly. It was made in a silvery steel, light but solid, with nothing on it except for the Polaris engraved on its cover in capital letters, and right under, in minuscules "basic series — model III". The manufacturer's name, a certain Kassa Fabrication was on the border. With a gleeful curiosity, he opened the object, excited to finally see what that famous omni-tool the Shepard seemed so fond of. There was a pad displaying a schema, and some instructions. He put in aside for the moment, more interested in what laid beneath.

It was a little band, no larger nor than a finger, its material hard and cool to the touch, as if it were some metallic. He opened a pop-up in the corner of his vision, zooming at the thing to analyze its smooth surface. Then, he went back to the notice. The omni-tool had to be placed on the inner part of the wrist, on the side of his unfavored hand. Right that was. Then activating it by pressing his left index and major on it, for a few moment. As said, an orange light ran on its length, three times and there was a beep. Aeon watched with awe the omni-tool expending itself around his wrist in a tight bracelet. A holo-screen appeared.

Digital imprint registered… No matches found in the database… Initializing registration process… Name input.

A keyboard appeared. He had to answer a few question like his race and birthday, which took him a few minutes, to remember and process to find the equivalent in the human calendar. Then, he had to create a financial account attached to his new ID. The process was swift, not unlike his navi he noticed. Then, when exploring the omni-tool interface, he realized that the device was similar to his navi. Well, except for the little detail that they couldn't live without it, whereas this timeline's sentients could obviously change their omni-tool. At home, not having a navy was the equivalent of being a vegetable. Destroying one's navi was like a fatal blow to their nervous system. Thanks to their synthetic part.

He smiled though. That meant that if he succeeded in linking his new omni-tool to his navi, there were no doubt about being able to modify and add a lot of functions to both devices. All of this was very intriguing, and exciting. Moreover when he remembered Shepard speaking about synchronization with armor. He would absolutely have to check that, once his armor on. For now he would just toy with it with a childish eagerness, discover basic techniques like how programming was in this era: he would need that to write the design to link his navi to this device. This wouldn't be easy challenge at first, be not impossible. Hell, he was the SRD Adjutant as well the Portal designer. If it was about techs there was no way he wouldn't succeed. He just needed some times to accustom himself to this, and also make his navi full operational again to be able to do some wonders.

Aeon chuckled when mentally agreeing with the Shepard's love of omni-tools, these were mostly captivating and adorable devices. He felt that his new Polaris and him would be great friends.

* * *

"I see that you like this little Polaris." Concentrated on fiddling with the omni-tool, in fact running some tests, he hadn't felt the Shepard approaching. "What do you think?"

"I'm just brushing the surface but I like what I see. Even if it's a little slow when confronted with multiple data streams," he gestured to the cloud of pop-ups surrounding his arm. The redhead human watched it with interest, a smile on his face. "But right now, I'm trying to accelerate the information transfer velocity to correct that."

"Well, that's a Polaris, not a tech-oriented omni-tool. But I'm sure you'll found things to do with before being bored. Did you sync it with your armor?" He looked at Aeon with amusement, pursuing before he could answer. "No, don't say anything. You didn't. I bet you just stand on this crate, playing with your omni-tool all the time," he paused letting a smirk flourish on his face. "But it's time for you to stop. I need you geared up and ready in the next in the comm room."

"Sure."

He watched the Shepard leave him to speak with the turian standing near the buggy, the future Primach Vakarian. He hadn't really spoke with him, nor any person in the garage: when arriving, there wasn't any person in the area except for one human, who had introduced himself as service chief Alfie Arson, managing Normandy's live stocks and also the requisitions officer. They hadn't chatted much since Aeon had been so excited to see his omni-tool but so far, service chief Arson had been rather sympathetic with him. The man nodded to him as Aeon passed, going to his locker. He put his Polaris box in it, retrieve the much larger one containing his armor.

Its first layout was a black suit, open on the middle to be easily slipped on. He recognized the familiar tickling sensation of nano-machines adjusting the undergear to his body, closing it in a tight embrace, comfortable though as if it was his proper skin. He checked on his omni-tool the suit's functions, pleased to see something very similar to his original timeline. It felt like home.

The armor itself was from a manufacturer called Sirta Foundation, the very one producing the gel covering part of his body. A light Phoenix armor the Shepard had said. It had strong shields and automatic distribution of medi-gel in his whole body, to make up for its lack in protection. He didn't know how it would be in real combat situation, surely not as effective as his Calypso but well, said gear was now a pile of junk and he had to trust the Shepard with it. Anyway, the feeling wasn't bad, not too heavy but not so light as he would forget it. It was flexible enough for him to move smoothly when he did a few katas to test it. He activated his omni-tool, to synchronize it with the armor. Instants later, it displayed various informations like his shields and armor stats, as well as some about his medical condition. Cautious, he double-checked with his navi to be sure of its accuracy, which were acceptable if not totally precise. Well, that was better than nothing, and he couldn't complain that the Phoenix didn't knew him as well as his navi. That would be stupid.

"The circumstances weren't very appropriate for an introduction earlier. I'm Garrus Vakarian, former detective at C-Sec."

"Aeon Kylthe, nice to meet you…" He had to remind himself not to call the turian Primarch. "Former detective Vakarian."

He wasn't a specialist concerning the reading of alien physiology, moreover when they were as different as the turians but the plum taste in his mouth said all: Vakarian was amused. "Garrus will be enough. I didn't quit C-Sec to be called detective Vakarian again, " he added with a small guttural noise. "So Aeon, it seems that you and me will be squadmates for this time. You're ready?"

"As much as I can."

"I see you have no weapons."

Even if it just tasted of curiosity, the remark made the ruach frowned in a slight irritation. "My body is a weapon." And the Shepard hadn't given him one yet. Not that he would know how to use it, he doubted about his proficiency with any firearms. "Anyway, let's go the Sh…" he corrected himself. "Shepard must be waiting for us."

* * *

Beside him, the Shepard cursed when ducking a rocket. There was a big boom somewhere behind them, following by a shockwave. Aeon didn't knew what to think about this era and people running around armed to the teeth, ready to shot at anybody. He couldn't believe that his current officer had walked straight into trouble without hesitation.

It had been obvious, what was waiting for them. One of the Shepard's old mate from an obscure ITC program (he would have to check the Codex on his omni-tool later), actually working in one of the manufacturer Hahne-Kedar's subsidiary on the Citadel. Mewt Gabranth as his name was, was the head of said subordinate company and had suffered some suspicious delays with important deliveries, which wouldn't be complete when arriving although the inventory when the vessels arrived at the Citadel listed them otherwise. That was the reason Gabranth had taken so much time to notice the missing pieces. He had traced back the responsible, some merc group but couldn't take any public actions against them. That was why he had asked the Shepard for help, the latter Spectre statute providing him an immunity against all form of murder and vandalism's collateral damages. Why he didn't engaged mercs, Aeon didn't knew although the other had said something about being an ex-military and not liking mercs. Which wasn't a valid argument in Aeon's mind: there were some things people had to do whereas they didn't like to do it.

And here they were, in a large hangar in an unused storage part of the Shalta-Aroch ward, under a gracious rain of bullets. Vakarian was far behind them, positioned in the superior floor to shoot at a distance with his sniper. The Shepard was beside him, alternating between his sniper riffle and omni-tool to neutralize enemies: Aeon didn't knew exactly what the man did but, the sparks gusting from the omni-tools or the weapons never ceased to amaze him.

"Aeon! Enemy at three!"

And he was there, taking care of anyone too close and at mid-range, whom the turian didn't had shot yet. He stood up, an eye on the shield's stats displaying in the corner of his vision, and his fist opening. A shockwave was released, pulling the opponent on his knees. There was blue electric sparkles, as their shields collapsed before they were on the ground, killed by a bullet. He chose not to duck to cover yet, as his shields were still effective, preferring to slam two mercs against a green container, which exploded when the Shepard fired it.

"Perimeter clear Shepard. I coming down," the turian said through their comm channel.

"You really _don't_ want to use a gun," the Shepard tossed as they rose to their feet.

Aeon's hand came to his right side where the weapon the Shepard had given him rested. "As long as I can do without it, I will." He ignored the weird look the human were given him, preferring to change the subject. "I didn't knew people could go around with so many weapons." The right to keep and bear arms was strictly restricted back home, it didn't seemed like that here. "I just hope there isn't any rocket-lancer left."

"Yeah, these things are hell. Bastard shattered my shields twice." Aeon nodded to the answer. The shockwave from the impact had made him staggered a few times, and he was lucky to had have the Shepard as well as the former detective covering him in these occasions. "Ah, Vakarian, you were taking your sweet time. Let's go, we still have another hangar to clear."

"I'm not as eager as you two to throw myself in Death's arms."

The ruach recognized the smugness on the human's face. And he was glad it was not directed at him this time. He didn't hold his laughter when the redhead answered. "Coming from the one who begged me to follow me in an obviously dangerous journey." He made a gesture with his hand, before returning the topic to their current affair. "Now isn't the time to debate about our death wishes though. We still have this prototype to retrieve. Garrus, at the rear, you watch our backs. Aeon, just behind me, I don't want anybody at close range."

Silence fell on the squad, as they progress through alleys of crates, careful to any other presence. They had encounter a heavy resistance until now and Aeon fought there weren't many mercs left except for the chief and his guards. That was the very reason which for he was even more cautious. Trapped people were often desperate. Desperate people often did unbelievable things.

They passed another narrow corridor, leading them into an empty steel container. The other door was opened on an area similar to the one they were coming from. The Shepard halted them, ordering Vakarian to say by the door frame, his riffle ready. In the same time, Aeon and him crouched, slowly progressing to hide behind some crates ahead, following the future Primarch's instructions. The mercs hadn't seen them yet, letting them some time to assess their environments. Steel aerial walkway hanged on the top of their heads, accessible by the stairs at the other end. There were four men patrolling of it. Each at one different corner of the squared hangar. He frowned: there was no way they could take them all before revealing themselves.

"No gunfires for five minutes. The intruders should be there anytime. And they will have a little surprise."

One human and one turian were standing at the other end of the place. The first laughed. "Yeah! And it's time to test one of this mechs. I can't wait! Guys, don't kill them, I really wanna see what this mechs can do." He yelled to the ones residing upstairs.

"Shepard, can we do something? I really don't intend to discover what is this mech they are talking about," the former detective said.

The Shepard didn't replied, his eyes lingered around them. His expression was as blank as his aura but it was evident he was thinking. "Aeon, could you do something about these four."

"If you can distract the two at the far end, I can still do some things to confuse the four up there. I would be fairly vulnerable though, as it would require some concentration."

"Noted. We'll cover you, stay undercover and whatever you're going to do, don't push yourself. You don't know how to shoot; I don't want you to take anything or your biotics go down in a critical moment. Garrus, at my signal, you shoot the turian. Aeon, begin when you ready."

The ruach acquiesced, flattered at this mark of trust the Shepard was placing on him. It was an honor for him and there was no way he wouldn't meet the human's expectations. His life points were frowned in concentration, and knew his markings were starting to glow in reaction to the power he was about to release. On the upper floor were many little storage boxes, as well as some of these explosive containers. There were a lot of little storage box, as well as these explosive containers on the upper floor. He took a deep inspiration. Then released his biotics.

The dark energy formed a ball in the center of the area, above the aerial walkway, turning on itself, provoking a miniature tornado which would suck anything in its reach. He heard movements, gunfires and surprised screams but ignored. His eyes were on his little creation, his mind dedicated to control the singularity, not to let it slip. He felt the sweat on his temples, as the taste of salt overwhelmed his gustative papillae. Letting the singularity grow, powered up by its rotative force without releasing control of it wasn't easy: manipulating the dark energy was like trying to hold on a slippery little object, which wanted to run from his grip. But Aeon was fastidious, controlled. Moreover, his squadmates were buying him time, he wouldn't deceive him.

He clapped his hand, one of the very few mnemonics he needed to use. The singularity divided in four equal balls, which were ejected in the four mercs' directions at an incredible speed. With them, the things lifted by the singularity. There was shouts and explosions. Aeon was on his knees, out of breath, his body aching from the effort, all his wounds seemed to woke up at this instant. His left hand was on his right side, burning from a hot pain. The other one was on his temple pulsing dangerously. The aftermath of his little exploit was indeed unpleasant. His return to reality was even worse. His shields were broken, and he didn't understood why the Shepard had grabbed him, throwing him with force on the side. He rolled on the floor, taking cover behind the nearest crate, breathing loudly.

"Aeon!" The human had a strange edge to his voice, alerting the other.

"Shepard?"

There was a small silence before their leader answered. "Biotics still OP?"

"I'll need moments to recover."

"I don't wanna see you out of cover. Garrus, we overload this mech's fucking shields."

The crates protecting them at first were no more. Far too much concentrated on his task, Aeon hadn't noticed the giant humanoid mech standing in their place. It was the only hostile left and currently showering the battlefield with shots. Obviously the little surprise the mercs had mentioned earlier. The Shepard was now behind a crate across the room, fingers on his omni-tools. The future Primarch stood at his initial position, his omni-tool also activated. In synchronization, they briefly came out of cover. There was a flashing blue light and many sparkles.

"Shields down. Now let blow this fucker up. Aeon, your biotics?"

"Not at their best but OP."

"Can you stop its advance before it can launch another rocket in our faces?"

"It won't last long."

He used a singularity to block the enemy's path, a very weak and small one, which would disperse in a very few instants. Insufficient for him to run to a safer cover dubious he could even do that, seeing he hadn't caught his breath yet. His biotics could certainly not help his body in their current state either. At least, his shields were already recovering. His hand fell on the gun resting at his side, hesitantly touching his shape. Should he use it? He shook his head. What could a simple pistol do against that synthetic monster?

Suddenly, Aeon found himself pressed against the hard crate, staggered by a shockwave, his ears deafened by the sound of an explosion. He winced when his head banged into the steel, took a few moments to regain his spirits. Relief washed through him when he popped out of cover to have a watch of the battlefield. There was fuming debris everywhere around the place the synthenic had been standing. The Shepard was putting away from his face, an overheated riffle, moving his other hand like it would cool the weapon down. Behind, the turian was coming to them sheathing his own.

"You okay?"

"Been better, but alive."

"What do you not understand in 'don't push yourself'?" The human stare's was severe and sharp, making him feel like a child. "Be smart Aeon, never do that again if you're going to end up on your knees. I won't always be here to save you from rocket laucher giga fucking mech. Did you forget you were already injured?"

He was sure there was embarrassment marked all over his face, but still happy his skin didn't colored as easily as humans. He scratched his neck, a crooked smile on his lips. "I won't forget next time," he answered with a lighthearted tone to mask his sheepishness. "It hurt like hell."

The Shepard gave him a weird look. "I hope it does, so you won't forget _again_. An…"

"Sorry to interrupt Shepard, but I think you should see that." Garrus Vakarian was crouched, a piece of mech between his talons, peered at it, his mandibles slightly drawn aside. "This must be the mech identifications. YMIR PTM-34 SN-010. YMIR mechs are definitely Hahne&Kadar's although it's the first time I see this model," he paused just a little before exclaiming. "Wait, this references! Wasn't that the prototype we were asked to retrieve?"

* * *

Mewt Gabranth was a very peculiar human. Aeon had known it since their first meeting, a few hours ago. The first sign of his difference had been the little round glasses on his nose, which could only be for his particular fashion: the lenses were far too small to be of any use. His shirt was white, its sleeves loose, with a large jabot and a slim dark blue ribbon running around a rigid squared collar. On it, he wore a light brown gilet decorated with gold patterns. His pants were black, and tight on his long legs. His boots were a beautiful sepia and high, covering his lower legs. All of this seemed very out of place when he thought about the outfit he had seen until now, almost like he was from another era. It gave him a noble aura, fascinating. He stood in front of the picture bay, his back on them and hands crossed. His stature was very straight, rest of his military's years, Aeon thought and his body lithe.

"I see." He turned, staring each of them with piercing hazel eyes. They stood in his living room, in an apartment situated on the Ring, which the aliens called the Presidium. A sign of his wealth. He had ordered them to come here after the Shepard had sent him a message, telling him of his assignment's completion. The human commander had told him the news of his now destroyed prototype. He hadn't answered until them, seemingly lost in thoughts. "I had many tests and combat simulations to run on it," he smiled lightly. "But it seems you could experiment it first hand, my friend. How was it?"

As Shepard was making a very accurate report on what he had witnessed of the prototype's capacities, Aeon slowly drank the strong beverage Gabranth had made for them. A "true earl grey" he had called it with a sweet fondness he could still taste. He decided he liked it enough to hum his appreciation, his markings producing a faint vibration which would only be perceptible to the touch for any aliens. In fact, there was a slight shift in their shade, visible to any ruach but he couldn't expect anyone here to be as observant to see they were paler.

The future Primarch's flanged voice snapped him back to the current discussion. "Fortunately for us, it was slow and its movements sometimes uncoordinated, especially when turning. But you would want to arrange that default for a better performance. As Shepard said, it's very powerful at close range with its restless shooting and still very good and accurate at mid-range with its rockets. I hadn't had the occasion to witness its long range efficiency, but with boosted shields and armors, it will gave it time to close the distance before its destruction."

He seemed about to go further but the Shepard cut him. "That will be enough Garrus. Aeon, some thoughts?"

"Not much." Seeing his situation at the time, he could tell a lot about the mech, and he was sure the human knew that. Hell, he hadn't even seen the rocket rushing on him! Still, he turned to Gabranth. "However, a _weak_ singularity was enough to stop it for a few instants. Which was all it took to Shepard and Garrus to strip its shields out and detonate it." He remembered what the Spectre had said earlier and added. "Biotics might be unusual but every eventuality should be taken into consideration and means deployed to deal with it. You should also be aware that its destruction triggers an shockwave, strong enough to be staggering."

"Your feedbacks are duly noted. I will transmit it to the development team." The peculiar human activated his omni-tool, manipulating it for a time before turning his attention back at them, with a smile. "Payment has been issued to your personal accounts. Thanks for your hard work, it's much appreciated," he concluded.


	5. Bioshock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prototype has been recovered, and Aeon is back on the Normandy, with a few tasks to perform.

**Chapter 4**  
Bioshock  


* * *

" _Never forget that at this era, the asari are the only natural biotic species, just like your species are now. If you are not_ very _vautious, you will be discovered in no time._ "  
— the Overseer

* * *

The omni-gel detached itself from him rather easily. In fact, it just flopped when he touched it, revealing a perfect and smooth skin. Except his right flank which was a mix of dark and livid patches on his otherwise alabaster complexion. With the perfect line of his markings passing through it, it was rather funny to see. The woman standing next to him nodded, making a hum.

"You won't need more medi-gel: most of the damages has been repaired already and this," she gestured to his side. "Scar will fade with time. You can consider it a war trophy to brag about with the ladies." His stomach growled in a very inelegant manner, making him slightly awkward. They had just returned and the Shepard had dragged him along to the medbay, adamant that it should be his first destination. He only had left when Aeon had stripped out of his gear, taking it with him. "Commander," she greeted him as he was coming back, a bunch of clothes in hands. "Your new recruit is good, except maybe for the residual pain but," she looked sharply at him. "Any soldier should remember that sort of pain to avoid it later."

"That's the price for playing hero. And his biotics?"

"Amazingly fine seeing what he did with them. I'm very surprised by the fact his implant didn't shut down. If the power display was as tremendous as you implied, its safety protocols should have stopped it. You may want to see with the Lieutenant for that matter."

"Noted. Something else?"

As he finished dressing, Aeon couldn't help feeling annoyed by the two aliens, speaking about him like he was a child. Yes he had done a stupid error for someone of his kind, underestimating the straining the input would take on him seeing his condition at the time. But he was very conscious about that incident. It wouldn't happen again. He would make sure of that.

"Nothing for now. You should probably take him to eat something though, you know what biotics do, Commander. And he told me he didn't eat today."

The Shepard raised a brow at him. "No wonder you were in that shape. Don't you always have some bars on you?"

"I was caught in an explosion which melted most of my armor and destroyed my belongings. How a simple energy bar could survive to that?"

And it was useless when his Calypso directly distributed complements and calories in his organism when wearing it, in the same way his Phoenix did with medi-gel. Moreover a sole Bio Othese contained enough nutriments for one ruach's day. Since ruach used biotics far more than human, it said all about its efficiency. Now that he had neither his armor or morning drink, he hoped these energy bars were strong enough for him not to have to munch one every hour. Speaking of which, he was growing ravenous and mostly curious about the food.

"We'll see that you'll have some with you anytime. But for now, let's go eat. Both of us need it. Dr. Chakwas, see you later."

"Anytime Commander. Aeon come back later, I would like to run some tests. And go see the Lieutenant for you biotics."

He inclined his head as a salute, thanking her before following the Spectre to the elevator. He observed him with curiosity as he leaned against the wall, arms cross over his chest. The uniform was a fairly standard dark blue, the same he had seen on every soldier aboard the vessel until now, his sleeves rolled up on his biceps. There was no way to guess his rank on it. Truth to be told, Aeon didn't like it very much: it was too tight and too formal. Fairly different to what he was used to. He missed his kathema **[1]** , his reassuring familiar weight around his neck.

"Don't worry, unless you enlist, you won't have to wear this uniform," the Shepard said suddenly as if he had read his mind. "You were staring at it with a strange expression." he added when ruach eyed him curiously. "Not that your usual expressions are easy to decipher. You really seem alien sometimes."

That made Aeon nervous. Was his nature so obvious? No that couldn't be, everybody had considered him as a human until now. Furthermore, the Archives never referred to a species similar enough to humans to be able to pass for one. "I get that a lot." These were the wisest words he could think of. "But well, the Galaxy wouldn't be as interesting without some oddities. I'm glad to be able to add a little something to its diversity."

The lift stopped at the third deck where the crew's living quarters were, even if he hadn't been there yet. He had been briefed about it though. The door at the far left led to the rather small room where the bunks were, each of them shared by two or three crew members who would switch at the end of their watch. He knew he shared his with a certain Silas Crosby he hadn't met. At the other end were the door leading to the restrooms. Lockers were all around the central area, which were mostly a bunch of smaller tables and seats than in the mess hall, a deck higher. A few persons were there, quietly chatting. He followed the Shepard to the front. There was no kitchen on such a small vessel, but multiples food and drinks distributors on the wall. The human touched the screen, and few moments later a plate with his meal appeared on the railing.

"Oh. Never used that, right? Look." He opened the main menu. "Since we added your IDs in the ship's database, the VI automatically select food according to your body's needs. But it might not be accurate for you yet, Chakwas has still a few tests to run on you to complete your informations. It records the last meal you had and have a limitation of three meals in 24 hours, with at least 6 hours between each, to avoid soldiers eat far much than they should. It also send reports to the chief medical officer if anomalies are spotted: like skipping far too many meals. Not that I think you would do that. Anyway, just select your name and the tech will do its magic."

A few moments later, they were seating at a table, their backs on the elevator's wall. Vakarian was already there, munching on his meat. Next to him, the quarian, which had insisted on him called her just Tali, was there too, sipping from a tube with an opening long enough to be inserted through her mask. Aeon looked at his meal, far much loaded than the Shepard's one, who hadn't wait to dive into it. Well, at least forms and colors were similar to what he was used to. The smell was nearly absent, and the taste clearly an artificial reconstruction. It was not bad nor good.

"So, Aeon, Tali. How you find your first meal on a military ship?" That was Lieutenant Alenko, plate in hands. When the dark-haired human sat next to him, Aeon noticed that although he also was a biotic, he had less food than him. Probably because of the mission and the fact it was his first meal in a while.

"This is pastry Lieutenant, the same old pastry quarians have to take wherever they are." She paused to look at the red tube. "At least these have flavor, it's not always like that. And this one is beef and bunch of vegetables."

"Edible," the ruach answered between two bites.

"Right. Welcome to military life," he smiled. "So, how was your first mission."

Next to him, he heard the redhead snort. The turian had stopped eating, to look at him with his mandibles tightly pressed. The two of them were fairly amused, and the others very curious. He felt like his mission mates were just waiting to see what his answer would be; if they could use it to laugh at him. Not unlike it would be at home.

"Garrus might have mentioned something about Shepard and me being, how was it?" He feigned a reflexion, his life point taking a triangular form. "Something like 'being eager to throw ourselves in Death's arm'." He turned to Vakarian, amused as he pursued. "Totally going with the flow, like you did at the clinic."

"Hopefully the flow won't take both of you to your end." The Shepard laughed. "Watch your asses."

"Said the one whose ass I just watched over," the former detective retorted. That made Aeon chuckle lightly as the human rolled his eyes.

"What happened?"

"Almost nothing. Just Aeon working some magic with his biotics. Four men, one at each corner of the room. Two of them dead when explosive containers collided with them. The lasts were staggered, easy prey for me. Pretty impressive although the aftermaths seemed very unpleasant." His voice was deeper when he said the word, almost vibrating. "And there was this YMIR mech prototype. Awfully big, armed with toys like rockets. One shattered Aeon's shields. Another would have shattered far much, but Shepard hurled Aeon out of a rocket's trajectory, and managed to avoid it. Almost nothing, as I said."

"I see."

"Dr. Chakwas said I should go to you. Something about my biotics."

"The amount of energy he released should have triggered the implant's safety protocols. And he's got a L3 implant. That's definitely not normal," the human commander explained. "Moreover, I want to know the extend of his biotics…" he paused, his eyes on Aeon. The later stopped drinking. Gulping hardly what his mouthful under the intense stare he was given.

"What?" Was the only thing he could say. He was perplexed. Was there a problem with him?

"You always do that?" Tali asked suddenly.

He was about to ask what she was talking about, but the gesture their leader made cleared his mind. He was showing his energy drink, whose bottle was gently landing on the table. There wasn't only that: ruach naturally used their biotics as soon as possible. From grabbing a bag to opening doors. It was as natural as breathing. He should have known aliens didn't do to same. It was the same in his original timeline. Except that no one seemed to do that here, so eventually if the Shepard was as observant and perceptive as the Archives told, he would notice. He should have been more attentive.

"It's a reflexes. As natural as you wearing an environment suit. I can't help." He made an apologetic smile. "That's a problem?"

"As long as you can guarantee it won't compromise this ship or its crew's safety, it won't be. If not, you'll have to learn to control it." The human didn't said it but Aeon understood what he was implying. The worst case would be him not being able to stay aboard the Normandy. That would definitely not happen. To his tutors' wonder, he never had been one of these clumsy kids who had to learn that kind of basic skills. He remembered the amazed ones, as well as the others. The ones saying it was normal since he was the offspring of the Ascender and an Elder.

"Don't worry, it would be as stupid as if the mere action of breathing could hurt others."

"Well, the Commander's existence sure seems to be a pain in Saren's turian ass." Aeon didn't had to look at his face, he crutch the man put against the wall when he sat next to the Lieutenant gave his identity away. Legendary pilot, Captain Moreau, or simply Joker like his peers nicknamed him.

"And Shepard sure seems to make things explode around him by his mere presence. Be it voluntary or not. Eden Prime, the clinic, Fist, the alleyback and now, this mech. Mind you the four last happened in less than a day. A breathing Shepard is hurtful for his enemies. You can't argue with that."

The Shepard smirked as the others laughed. Vakarian was right, he couldn't argue with that so Aeon just rolled his eyes, smiling nonetheless.

* * *

The Lieutenant and the ruach stood in the garage, where the former had moved the crates to make a wide empty area. They had just departed from the Citadel and taken the Widow relay to join the Knossos system, where Therum, their destination, lied. They still had hours before their arrival, which they decided to spend evaluating Aeon's biotics, although in his mind, there was nothing to evaluate.

"Do what you did during the mission," the dark-haired human ordered. "Same power intensity. I want to see the replica of what you did."

"Sure."

This time shouldn't be too difficult. He took a long inspiration, letting his eezo nodules vibrate producing a warm power. He was conscious that his markings were already glowing, and soon his whole body was engulfed in a silver light. He was standing his arms slightly outspread, in prevision to the mnemonic he would have to do later. His eyes were on the center of the area, were dark matter had formed a singularity. He frowned in concentration, putting away the heavy feelings of stares on him. He allowed the singularity to grow, making it rotate on itself like a spinning top, his control tightly restraining his speed acceleration to annihilate any chances of it growing out of control. Thank to the far better conditions and his far better shape, the process was smooth, much less difficult than earlier. Still, he stayed focused: biotics were nothing but patience and control. Mastering them took centuries, moreover when exercises like this could be lethal if one wasn't attentive enough. And he had only begin practicing this particular movement a few decades ago.

He clapped his hands, still frowning as the four singularities flew in different directions, gasping when he had to stop them at the area's limits, letting the dark matter naturally disperse after a few moments. This time, the aftermath was clement, only leaving him panting. Beside him, the Lieutenant didn't seemed fazed, his aura a calm bittersweet berry. He said nothing seemingly lost in thought, his eyes on him but Aeon didn't thought the human male was really looking at him. Eventually, he closed the gap between them, telling to push his hair out of his neck. Then, he stood there, peering silently at his port.

He sighed. "Sure the safety protocols wouldn't work. This is definitely not a L3. I don't even know this design. Your amp bears no brand. Hell it doesn't even seem to be detachable." He took a step back, his brown irises in his. There was curiosity as well as the gum-like flavor of wariness. Aeon knew what was coming, he felt his markings itch with recognition, nervousness invading every inch of his body. "What did you do to attain this power level? You didn't use a mnemonic to launch a singularity the first time. Are you some kind of human experiment? What the hell are you Aeon?"

The ruach made an offended expression. "No way! I was always like that." He added, sounding a lot more defensive than he had intended.

Yet he couldn't help but be annoyed and resentful: artificial biotics were as, if not more, strong as his, but not as easily handled because of their instability. That was what implants were for: learn to control it. The SRD had to conduct a lot of tests to come with an adaptive one, fit for every physiology, which wouldn't blow its owner's navi to hell when the safety protocols were launched. There had been a lot of casualties, some he had seen in person when running the tests. His biotics were as pure as any ruach, nothing like these wobbly things which could collapse anytime if not amped correctly. But he could definitely not tell that. Still, maybe slip a part of the truth would be good enough. This human and the rest of these people would be his companions from now. He had to trust them; the contrary were true as well.

"I'm a natural, that's all." He explained further, knowing that all was a blatant lie. Hopefully Kaidan Alenko would not question it. "My implant and amp are custom-designed for me. That includes no safety protocols."

"What if you push yourself too much?"

"Joyful stuffs, all including pain." In fact, there was a shut security device taking care of him not dying because of his biotics: his nano would just shut him down, directly blocking his eezo nodes and putting him in a state where he could cool down. "The worse I experimented was fainting. And sleeping for a couple days after. But I had really gone far over my limits."

The marine slowly nodded, brows furrowed and jaws tightly clenched. He seemed to feel a whole lot of thing, curiosity and suspicion still included. Maybe confusion too if his unfocused gaze was any clue. "Why didn't you told Chakwas or Shepard?" Aeon didn't answered, his position stiffening. The man let a loud sigh out. He saw the human's hand reach out for him before falling back at his side. "Listen Aeon. I don't really know what to think about it. In one hand, this is a vital information to anyone fighting at your side, which we'll do. You shouldn't have let Shepard and Chakwas think you were a L3 when you aren't. A misevaluation of your capacities and there could be useless deaths." He shook his head, a weird edge in his voice when he continued. "On the other hand, I'm a biotic too. I know it isn't easy for us out there, moreover when you're a little more special than the rest. I can relate in my own way. I understand what you did. But you have to trust us. And we have to know we can trust you."

Aeon bowed to the human, in a silent thank to his comprehension. "Thanks for your understanding Lieutenant Alenko. Your words are engraved in my mind, I won't forget," he quickly added when he saw the perplexed expression on the other's face

However, it didn't seem to help at lot. If anything, the human looked even more confused, at a loss of words. After a long and rather awkward silence, he finally said. "Just speak with the Commander."

"I will."

"I hope so. Now get in position, I want to see what other things you can do with these natural biotics of yours."

* * *

The doctor was mostly speaking to him, when running her omni-tool all around him, taking measurements and asking about fairly inoffensive things like allergies, which he didn't think he had, even if he couldn't be sure: the food and the environment weren't the same here. Any health problems were also to strike him as improbable: his nanos would take care of all. Speaking of which, he had been fairly unsurprised of them remaining unnoticed: after all, these wasn't any synthanics in this cycle. They wouldn't even be able to see his core, without dissecting him.

"I didn't want to bring the subject in front of others because this is very personal. You have genital aplasia," she suddenly said, indicating datas on her omni-tool.

"If you mean I'm genderless, yes." Aeon chuckled lightly. It reminded him of home, where young aliens were always curious about ruach sexuality. It was always kind of cute to see their wide-eyed stares when they learnt ruach didn't need to engage in coitus to reproduce. Not that they had the organs for in the first place. There were no males or females, just plain old ruach. "But, I rather not talk about it."

The woman seemed pensive, but smiled when replying. "I understand. Be assured it won't spread out of these walls. Your secret is safe. Professional secrecy, if anything. However, I need to know if you have a special medical treatment to follow."

"None. I'm very healthy."

"Be sure to stay that way."

* * *

"You wanted to speak with me. I'm waiting," the human said, pushing his pads aside to watch him with careful vivid green eyes. As usual, there was no taste to his aura, and Aeon asked himself if his admiration was what prohibited him to read it, or if the commander had some sort of unconscious mental protection. Either way, it made him feel even more uneasy not to be able to taste his emotional state.

"I'm not a L3." That was blunt but he couldn't think of other words. "I'm a natural biotic."

A smile made its way on the human's face. "Seeing you fight and just move around, I figured it was something like that. I pay attention, you know." His smile was larger, and Aeon could tell the other was about to laugh. "Oh wait. Don't tell me, Alenko coaxed you into coming here."

The ruach crossed his arms over his chest. Wasn't the redhead taking the issue a little too lightheartedly? "He made a fair point: that's the sort of thing you have to know," he replied, his voice with a sharp edge. "I should ha…"

He stopped when his name was called softly. "I just told you I knew." His face was more serious when he pursued. "I'm flattered you actually listened to him and came. I'm a little bit curious though, if you don't mind. Just getting to know my crew better."

Well, Aeon couldn't really say no. The Shepard ought to have some answer, as his current employer, as well for the sole reason that Aeon felt really glad to have the man's interest. Even if it was the normal curiosity of a leader for his underlings. "Yes?"

"Are you some kind of alien? That's not a problem you know: we already have a quarian, a krogan and a turian. I don't think a another one would make a difference. An aeon, doesn't that sound good? Maybe a little like ion thought."

Aeon rolled his eyes, his heart racing. Was his nature that obvious? "That's not funny."

The Shepard put his hands in front of him, pushing slightly in the air, before he began counting on his finger as he told. "I have arguments. One. Silver biotic. Unheard of with humans. Two. Natural biotics. Unheard of, except for the asari and anybody can see you aren't one. Three. Tattoos glowing when using biotics. Unheard of." His tone was strange, his shoulder trembling slightly although his face was even.

"What do you want Shepard?" The ruach frowned, scratching his neck. "What's your point?" At least, he hadn't jerked him out of the Normandy yet.

"Four. More social awkwardness than Alenko, and he sets the bar high. If you want to pass for a human, you'll have to try harder," he added as if Aeon hadn't spoke at all, finishing his sentence with a laugh. "I'm teasing you Aeon. Relax. I chose you to be on the team and I'm very confident in my judgement."

So, he was being laughed at. Again. It was a little annoying, but that efficiently made him loosen up a little. The Shepard might not have seen through his cover, even if he had to keep the possibility in mind. "You're cocky."

"Wanna talk about your 'biotics doesn't need to wield weapons' attitude?" He chuckled, but resumed with a much more serious tone. "Speaking of which, concerning your gun training, I've found you a teacher."

"Who?"

"Garrus. I trust you to see the details with him after Therum's mission. For now, just have some sleep. I want you in the garage, geared up for duty at 1000 tomorrow."

"Noted."

Aeon nodded, then excused himself before rushing out of the quarters, nothing but eager to finally have some time to himself. Fortunately, nobody called him when he made his way down to the crew's quarters. When he entered the room, snores and loud respirations greeted him. His bed was on the far end of the room, on the upper bunk. He changed into his pajamas hastily, then lifted himself on it. He sat his back on the wall, legs crossed, the back of his hands on his knees.

Now that he was in a calm area, with a lot of time on his hand, he finally could run a scan of his navi while resting. He first put his body to a sleeping state, his eyelids closing. Then, he activated his dual vision, feeling a gleeful joy rushing through his veins as screens appeared in every corner of his black vision. When looking at the status update in the left corner, a few messages popped up. The first one indicated that the memory core was fully restored, ready to be synced. There was many things he could have put in it, because of the whole new world he had came to discover since his arrival; it actually took him some time to class and upload what he deemed valuable, adding his own comments to the memories, as well taking some notes he put on the desktop. Most of them were about the few body language he had noticed, like the Shepard's one-brow-high-one-eye-narrowed disbelief expression. There were others about those he had met, to be sure not to forget them, or reminders of tasks to do. One blink later, they arranged themselves in little icons taking place in different areas, in groups based on their nature. He brushed them in the background to report his attention back at the status update.

He saw without surprise he had new notifications, from before he took the leap in what seemed like ages ago. He chose not to read them for the moment, keeping them for later. He still couldn't access to a report of his body's recovery report but that wasn't a priority. Unsurprisingly, there weren't anything else so Aeon closed it a sigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[1]** Ruach military can wear whatever they want to, at the sine qua non condition it shows their kathema, which is a large choker around their neck. The device has multiple usages: its color determining its owner rank (Aeon's was blank for his Adjutant rank), and there were also the different decorations one acquired during his career on it. Moreover, its great shock absorption serves as a protection to their headlock.
> 
> * * *
> 
>    
> When reading, you could see I took some liberties with the Normandy: adding a deck between the garage and engines room and the mess hall. There's a few reasons for that.
> 
> We all agree that be it the naval ship, or spaceship, a frigate in rather small (compared the other ship anyway), and run with a rather small crew. But from what I've seen "rather small" crew size with naval frigates is about 200 men (that's approximative). We also know the Normandy's built is similar to submarines. Typical nuclear submarines has a crew of 80 men, non-nuclears run with half that number. Seeing that the Normandy is a prototype of a new frigate class, mostly made for infiltration I thought its crew size were somewhere between 40 and 80. Seeing what we see in the game, 80 was too many for me. 40 wasn't enough: it's implied that most of the crew could escape with 20 deads on 40 crew members, that would be too many perts.
> 
> And the list on the Mass Effect wikia lists (without the aliens Shepard recruits and including Anderson and Jenkins) 53 people. Later with the aliens and minus Jenkins and Anderson, it's 55 (I'm not included Aeon). The CO has their quarters, so it leaves 54 people who need a bunk or a sleeper pod. There's 8 sleeper pods in the mess hall, and even with shifts and sharing, that seems not enough (in my mind anyway).
> 
> That's why I took the liberty to add another deck, where the cantina and bathrooms are. I didn't put a kitchen because the characters were surprised there was one on the SR-2 (which is twice as big as the SR-1) but opted for distributors. And the sleeping room contains twelve bunk beds.
> 
> Well, I know it might seem nitpicky of me to care about such things, or you might not even care; still I think it's important for me to explain what I wanted to do, the liberty I took with canon and didn't explained in the story (like with the omni-tool in the last chapter).
> 
> If you have more questions/critics/corrections, don't hesitate to tell me, I don't bite.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
